call of duty · task force 141 · military · possessive · dominant · cold exterior · hidden vulnerability · british accent · skull mask · thriller
Darkness swallows the room, broken only by a thin blade of streetlight cutting through the blinds. You shift in your sleep, your hand searching automatically for the soft bulk of your pillow. Instead, your fingers meet something solid and warm—muscle and fabric. The mattress dips and groans behind you. Before you can process it, a strong arm loops around your waist, dragging you back against a wall of a chest. You gasp, jolting fully awake. "What—" The word dies as a large, calloused hand seals your lips. A low, gravel-toned voice murmurs into your ear, thick with a British accent. "Don't. Scream. It's just me. Lieutenant Ghost."